Nun and Idol Girl!
by Princess Of Badassia
Summary: Miku is a lost soul, who finds herself as a nun. The internet invites such sinfully good entertainment, 'Why Not Become An Idol' Who'd refuse? Certainly not Miku! Miku's drawn in by the familiar feeling of the love of many fans But when it turns sour?... You know the story! Based off the song Oneshot Slight gore My first angst! Feel free to flame!


I go about my basic chores slowly, bored of the routine in every move I make. I polish the stained glass windows, their iridescent colors shining brighter as I rub harder. When I feel no one will notice the poor job I did scrubbing the overly bright mosaic of an angel, I toss the rag to the floor and promptly go to the closest oak bench. I get on my knees and kneel so my elbows are on the plush seat of the bench. I clasp my hands together and begin a silent prayer, asking God for a more generous amount of free time. In other words, I wished that the priest would look away more often so I could catch up on my computer games!

I let out a depressing sigh, tucking a stray bit of green-blue hair back under my black habit. I get up and brush the dirt off my black gown… that reminds me… I was supposed to sweep. _Eh, he'll never notice._ I shrug, deciding to slack off a bit more today. I gather the written confessionals into a basket and I make my way through the aisles of the church and towards the door that leads to my meager room. I close the door and flop down onto my thin yet soft bed, shuffling through the carefully folded pieces of paper like a lottery. I pull out a neat little piece of paper with green lines and orange letters.

_**Dear Sister,**_

_**I can't find a boyfriend! **_

_**With love, Gumi~**_

I crumple the piece of paper without a second glance. _Yeah, finding a nice boyfriend would be nice…_ I think absentmindedly- _WAIT! WHAT IS THIS TO YOU, A MATCHMAKING SERVICE?! _I think haughtily, glaring at the piece of paper like it's the person who wrote it. At that disappointing confessional, I shove the basket under my bed and decide it's been a day.

I change from my uniform into a too-big pink T-shirt and jean short-shorts. I shuffle around the junk under my bed to find my contraband stash of Pocky (Cookie sticks dipped in chocolate) and begin to munch on it as I flip open my laptop. I surf around the Internet as my unfiltered monitor spits out bored disses, religious wars, and hatred. I frown at all of this unnecessary waste of data, searching for something different and fun. I silently pray for the computer to give this plain me a hint on how to live a more interesting life.

A pop-up appears on the screen. Bubblegum pink with teal letters-

_**How would you like to become an idol?!**_

_Now that's what I'm talking about! _I munch another piece of Pocky as I click on the _**YES**_ button with gusto. A brightly colored website shows me the steps to creating a character and becoming an idol! I create a girl with teal hair, like mine, pulled into pigtails with pink and black ribbons. She's wearing a white school shirt with a teal tie and a short black shirt. I carefully picked teal tights and shiny black shoes for her to wear. She winks at me with those gleaming teal eyes, so much brighter than mine. I type in my name for the character. _**Miku Hatsune**_ in the same bright teal font. I click the _**READY**_ button.

Metamorphosis! I suddenly feel as though I am my character, that the fans cheering for my songs, and my fashions! I sign infinite autographs and flirt with the all the cute boys who follow me around like I'm emitting some sort of sunlight. It's so exciting! There are prayers of happiness from all of the people who love me! My picture was up on buildings and concert times posted on every corner! I instantly decide that God would be happy to enjoy all of these fun things too! I love being admired so thoroughly by all of these people.

I stayed up all night, past curfew all the way into the morning hours being famous and beloved as my Online Self. By the time I logged off (being careful to save all of my data) it was time to being chores once again…

If it's even possible, I slacked off more than usual. I barely touched the windows; the floors remained un-swept, and forget about the confessions from those ungrateful lost lambs. I waited impatiently for the priest to leave so I could sign back on and continue my escapades as a pop-idol!

This went on for days, until I finally got a bit bored with the game. I was slacking more as my Online Self than I was as my Offline Self… Eventually every good thing comes to an end, right? I sigh as I sweep up (having finally been caught by the priest who tripped on a bench and fell, to be covered in the immense amount of dust of the floor) and then put the dirt into the trash quickly and sloppily as I run to my room, seeking the adoration of my fans once more! _Nothing like an ego-boost after being scolded so harshly by the scary priest… _I think with a light chuckle

When I log onto the game, I'm shocked and applaud to find a sparse amount of fans I have left! I was only logged off for a day and a half! I growl under my breath at this misfortune and begin to walk my character around on the streets. Some of the more brutish ex-fans spat out bad remarks as I passed by them. _You're making me sick. What's with you guys?! _I think darkly as I glower at the computer screen. _I'll show you all! I will! _What kind of results will their careless remarks bring?

My head begins to throb, my fingers leave the keyboard to press the sides of my head. Flashes of unknown memories flood my vision, what kind of headache is this? _I think I'm _**remembering** _everything I wanted to _**confess**_ here…_ I run to the church's kitchen, sincerely looking for some ice to sooth my headache…

Though suddenly the bland wooden knife rack looks unexpectedly glorious at the moment, as do the black handles of the blades.

I move my hand with hesitation towards the rack, before I suddenly snatch a handle. A large dagger in my hands, I move shakily towards the middle of the church. My head hurts so badly, and such fuzzy images cloud my vision every time the pain strikes the center of my head. I clutch the knife with both hands for dear life as I fall to my knees in the center of the church. The images begin to collect and string together properly, clearing up into a crystal vision.

My past self was an idol too… who lost their place on the top. Her fan's mindless assumptions and spiteful remarks, finally drove her to cutting her wrists and ending the pain. With such a painful burden resting on my shoulders now… I don't really want to die, but I have such an _impressive_ knife. _Will I stop here?_ A traitorous voice echoes agonizingly in my head.

The young priest who was normally so aloof grasped my shoulder with a reassuring hand. "My child, why would you contemplate such a deed?" His voice rings in my ears, enlightening, really. That hand, still shaking off my confusion, causes me to turn around and try to _hug_ him.

_This was inevitable, I forgot to drop the knife._ I excuse myself as I pull away, the priest's body falling to the cleanly swept floor. Drenching it in a pool of blood, reaching all the way to my shoes. I look down at my hands, and the only thing I can think is how I was reborn in such a similar depressing red color.

_Who? What? Why? I don't even understand… _And still people die for such foolish reasons. I think of _If only I could've drop the knife, which I can't now_… So there's no way to save me. _I wonder if I'll ever be forgiven for all I've done… maybe if I continue apologizing to God, I'll stave off my everlasting depression. _I clasp my hands together and begin to pray, and hope I'll be forgiven. Suddenly everything I'm carrying is way too heavy, and the pool continues to grow and swallow my feet. Tears of absolute regret stream down my face, there is no more fun for me to have…


End file.
